


Let it snow

by Nightchild78



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightchild78/pseuds/Nightchild78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas and the worst snow storm Cardiff has ever seen is raging. As far as Ianto is concerned, it could snow until the end of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it snow

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my wonderful beta reader welsh_scotsman. This was supposed to be a "Christmas fic" in 2011, but finally posted for the first time in 2013. Better late than never.  
> "Let it snow" was created by the lyricist Sammy Cahn and the composer Jule Styne in 1945.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Ianto sighed and his breath created a small patch of condensation on the cold window pane.

It was two days before Christmas and the worst snow storm Cardiff had ever seen was raging outside, coating buildings and streets under a thick layer of ice. The city had been completely frozen for two days and the only benefit of that cataclysm was that even the Rift's activity seemed to be paralysed by the cold spell and so the whole team was allowed to stay at home for the Christmas holidays. Except Jack, of course, who lived permanently at the Hub.

Ianto drew the curtain and turned around towards Jack who was sitting on the edge of the bed, in the middle of tying his shoe laces.

After an ultimate unsuccessful Weevil's hunting in the sewers, they had come back to Ianto's flat in his car, so now Jack would have to get back to the Hub on foot. Not that Jack minded, but tonight was particularly cold and Ianto felt slightly guilty for letting him face the freezing night.

He would have been only too happy to offer hospitality to the Captain, but he knew perfectly well that it would be politely but firmly declined. Agreeing to spend the night with him would have been a sort of commitment and Jack never did commitments.

"It's snowing again," Ianto informed him, leaning his bare shoulder against the wall. He was wearing just his pyjama bottoms, but the radiators of his flat were dispensing a comfortable warmth in the room.

Jack lifted up his head up and sent him the sweetest smile Ianto had ever seen, with just enough mischief in it to not look soppy. Without a word, Jack covered the distance between them to stand in front of Ianto, the thick wool of his coat scratching Ianto's bare skin slightly and sending shivers down his spine. Leaning over him, Jack whispered in his ear : "You're a real mother hen to me, Ianto Jones.".

"Job conditioning, Sir," said Ianto drily, looking at his feet and feigning detachment, whilst each fibre of his body was craving for Jack's touch and all he wanted was to beg him to stay.

With no warning, Jack grabbed his chin between his fingers, lifted his head up and crashed his lips on onto his in a fierce kiss, pinning him against the wall.

When they finally parted, trying to get their breath back, they looked at each other for a while, neither of them daring to make the first move. Feeling dizzy and slightly bewildered, it took all of Ianto's will to tear himself away from Jack's embrace and say in a low voice :

"You should go now, or you'll turn into a snowman."

Jack grinned. "Don't worry. You look so hot that just thinking of you could defrost an iceberg."

"You could still get a cold," Ianto replied, smiling in return.

"I never get sick."

Ianto shook his head and chuckled. "Never say never or you'll jinx yourself."

For a brief moment, an undecipherable expression flicked across Jack's features.

"I should go."

"Yes, you should."

With one last light kiss to Ianto's lips, Jack headed for the exit. Ianto didn't see him to the door. He felt pathetic enough without laying it on thick. Lost in thought, Jack's voice startled him. Standing on the doorstep of the room, he repeated :

"I see you tomorrow ?"

Ianto nodded and forced a smile in return.

"Yes, of course."

The door closed and Ianto shivered despite himself. The flat, that had felt so warm and cosy a few minutes ago, seemed suddenly empty and cold. He sighed again, collected his jumper from the back of the armchair and slipped it on. He glanced at the undone bed and its cooling sheets.

He knew he had no right to complain. Being with Jack or more likely, beside Jack was fun... most of the time. They were friends, co-workers, lovers. The sex was great. No. If he was honest, it was more than great, it was mindblowing. He was the one in whose arms Jack came back to life most of the time and it meant a lot to him.

But selfishly, he also knew there was a line they would never cross. Intimacy and domesticity were off limits with Jack. There was no cruelty or refusal in it and despite Owen's opinion, Jack wasn't a total bastard and he himself wasn't just a part-time shag. Jack just couldn't afford to create relationships with price to pay was too high when they finally died. Ianto was too aware of it and he wouldn't impose it on Jack for the world.

In a pitiful attempt to fill the emptiness he felt in his chest, Ianto headed to the kitchen in order to make some tea. On the way, he turned on the hi-fi system and Frank Sinatra's voice filled the air, singing "Let it snow". _Fully appropriate_ , Ianto thought.

He was about to switch the kettle on, when the ringing of the bell made him jump out of his skin. He carefully went to the door and looked through the judas hole before promptly opening the door.

Jack was standing at the threshold, casually leaning against the frame of the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his great coat. Snow flakes were sparkling in his hair and his cheeks were flushed with cold.

_Jack Harkness, why do you have to look so damm well ?_

Taken aback, it took him a few seconds to stop gaping like a goldfish and regain his composure.

"Jack ? Did you forget something ?" he asked in a tone he hoped sounded detached.

"Well... You were right. It's snowing like hell outside. So...I thought...Maybe..." He hesitated and gave him a sheepish smile. "Maybe I could...".

"Stay." The word had burst out of his mouth before he could stop it and Ianto cringed inwardly at how desperate he sounded. He tried to find something smart to say, but nothing came to mind. He couldn't think straight. All he could do was stare at Jack's face whilst the immortal obstinately kept his eyes fixed on the doormat.

"Are you sure ?" asked Jack finally, lifting his head and looking at him.

The glimpse of uncertainty mixed with fear he saw in his eyes was the answer Ianto had been waiting for. The storm which would make Jack Harkness beat a retreat hadn't come yet.

_Never have been more sure of anything._

"Two days."

Jack looked at him puzzled.

"Sorry ?"

"They said it will snow for at least two days more."

Jack's face lit up.

"Well... As long as you can cope with my atrocious bed manners," he teased.

Ianto smirked and shook his head. With no more words, he took Jack's hand in his and drew him to the bedroom. One moment later they were settled back in Ianto's bed, huddling together, whilst Sinatra was still singing and the snow kept raging outside.

As far as he was concerned, thought Ianto before he finally fell asleep, it could snow until the end of time.

_The fire is slowly dying,_

_And, my dear, we're still good-bye-ing,_

_But as long as you love me so._

_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow._

_End_


End file.
